As Easy As Stealing Milk From A 5th Grader

Tuesday, December the 7th. Today, was a bad day; I sunk lower than I have ever been. I admit that I have never been in quite the position to be a bully, maybe that's what drove me to it... but today I did what I have never dreamed of doing; today, I bullied a fifth grader. Granted, at first, I didn't mean to force my will upon her, but how could one say no to a college senior, someone bigger than you (although not by very much). I was thirsty and all I could think about was quenching my thirst. In a crowded room, all I could see was her unopened milk carton, how it lay there, helpless. I waited for her to make her move and partake of that delicious succulent substance, but her move never came. Eventually, overtaken by greed, I asked her, "Are you going to drink that?" I did it in innocence, even in ignorance; I didn't expect her to lie to me but what was I thinking, I was so much older than her. How could she say no? Impossible. I took the milk, immediately realizing my mistake, but it was too late, I couldn't reject the offer. So I opened that milk and in one chug, drank the whole thing. The 5th graders were flabbergasted, horrified by my cupidity; their response astounded me and reaffirmed their helplessness to my power, "You drank that in one chug?!?!?" It was rude, cruel, ruthless, but nonetheless, over. The weight of my actions weighed heavy on my shoulders and I realized, it was as easy as like stealing milk from a 5th grader...

Beauty

As my Brigham Young University undergraduate education is nearing an end, an important question has manifested itself and many have asked, "Are you worried you're graduating without being married?" Normally, this wouldn't be such a recurrent question but as dating dynamics are different at BYU, it is quite conventional. Naturally I wouldn't be too concerned about this question; however, Ralph Waldo Emerson disturbs me when he said, "The radiance of the human form, though sometimes astonishing, is only a burst of beauty for a few years or a few months, at the perfection of youth, and in most, rapidly declines." If beauty rapidly declines in most, maybe I should be more concerned in my pursuit for an eternal companion in order to find her before she reaches the tail end of her "burst." So back to the question, why aren't I married? In order to answer this question, it is important to understand what is necessary in a companion. People claim, true beauty is inner beauty and to some degree, I agree. But what really is beauty? Who decides what or who is beautiful? Is beauty objective? Beauty is hard to define, but we know it is antithetical to ugliness. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "The secret of ugliness consists not in irregularity, but in being uninteresting." So can we conclude that beauty is determined by interest and that an interesting person is beautiful? I have found that uninteresting people are not attractive. They may be aesthetically pleasing but their company is not especially desired. Others argue that beauty is something we can not have. 'The grass is always greener on the other side.' To this Emerson questioned, "If I could put my hand on the north star, would it be as beautiful?" To remedy this dilemma, people counsel to lower your standards but in any endeavor should we be counseled to settle for less than our potential? There is a difference in settling and realizing your potential; however, executing is always harder than talking. When are we settling and when are we failing to reach our potential? Am I waiting to reach my potential or am I erroneous in the necessity to settle?

Pick-Up Lines Gone Bad

Approximately 8 months ago I ate lunch in BYU's cafeteria, the Cougareat in the Wilkinson Center. As I ate, I noticed a fairly attractive girl eating lunch with her friend (also a girl). As I pondered strategies and techniques to approach this girl, two men came up to me inviting me to a party that Friday night. This was my inspiration. I created a plan of attack. I presented my proposal to a peer for critique and after I had worked out all glitches, it was time to implement my plan. I decided to be a promoter of this party for a cheap excuse to talk to these lovely ladies. I neared them, got their attention and with flyer in hand asked if they had already heard about the party that Friday? Obviously they had but this was only an excuse to start conversation. I proceeded, asking if they were planning on going. "No," they quickly responded. Luck would have it that I had anticipated this response and quickly turned the party flyer over. There written was a name and a number, my name and my number. "Well call if you want to do something fun then," was my sole explanation as I left the flyer on the table, walking away to never look back. My strides were long that day as I crossed the Wilkinson commons. My expectations weren't high that day and that small ounce of hope that she'd call wasn't what held my head high; I knew I had a personal triumph. I would probably never see that girl again or at least one would think and I had "left it all on the field." I had done my best to carpe diem. Coincidently, I did see this young lady a few times in passing, to and from classes. Never did she acknowledge me and I did not wish to make her feel awkward, as it was probably a common event for guys to hit on her. Time passed, spring led to summer, and she was never to be seen. Summer's leaves fell in the fall air and my new class schedule led to a surprise. Real Analysis led to straight to her. Not only was she in my class, but she sat by my friend. As common courtesy would have it, I had the obligation to sit near my friend which led to a very awkward encounter with this mystery woman. I have had my fair share of uncomfortable moments so I knew it would take more than one class to perturb me. And thus it was so... Not only was she in my Math class but my Econ class too. How could this happen? Two classes in one semester, no, I couldn't believe it. All I had left was my personal life as she had already penetrated my academic life in both of my majors. But fate is fate, and on that same Monday I stumbled across her yet again. FHE, there she was, in my ward too. My only refugee gone, stolen from me.

Embarrassing Moment

So at the end of August my family and I went to Yellowstone. It was an amazing place! I love the US National Parks! Anyways, this blog isn't to express the joy I felt in Yellowstone, but to convey the embarrassing moment I experienced so that other may find joy at my expense. At Yellowstone, we went to the old Inn right by Old Faithful to eat at their restaurant. It was a beautiful, exquisite wood building. As I was using the bathroom, I went to wash my hands before dinner. As I approached the sinks, several were taken. There was one individual who was in between two sinks, I decided I'd use the sink to his left. As I commenced the cleansing of my hands, I happened to glance to my side to look at this individual. He happened to be mentally handicapped. I noticed that he had also taken the liberty to observe the man at his side, me. As he looked at me, he burst into laughter... What is so funny about my appearance, I may never know; however, judging by his laughter, it might be worth it to you to take a glance.

"I Love You"

Why are the simple words 'I love you' so nice to hear?Almost always, the feelings behind these simple words is expected and often times anticipated; however, there is a sweet, overwhelming feeling incurred by these straightforward words. No matter how anticipated they are, these words satisfy something deep in the soul, a feeling that seems only possible in fairy tales. As I have matured, these words have gained significant meaning. The only feelings I can recall that correspond with those aroused by these words are those I felt as a missionary, bringing souls unto Christ and seeing others accept the invitation of the Lord, Christ, to come unto Him. Maybe that is why we call charity the pure love of Christ. As we bringourselves and others tosalvation, we develop charity and experience those feelings associated with it, the very feelings endured upon hearing those beautiful words. Recently, I was address with these three simple words by a dear loved one, how my bosom swelled with joy, how I felt important, how I felt truly loved. I felt a literal swelling in my heart. How I adore those three exquisite words, 'I Love You.'

Another Tribute: Becca

Every year on the 21^st day of July, I have the privilege to commemorate the coming into this world of my little sister Rebecca, Becca for short. Becca is amazing. She has taught me so much. She is the only reason I can say that I know the meaning and have been to a regatta. Last year Rebecca was the player of the year on Langley High School’s crew team. She amazes me that she’s such a good rower. I recall as a young whippersnapper, my brothers and I went to the Ashburn pavilion, a swimming pool and work out facility. We decided to try the ergometers, also a vocabulary word learned due to my sister, because we thought they looked cool. Oh how my back ached after using that machine! How I regretted having used it! (In all reality, I did enjoyed using it but truth be spoken, it was one of the harder work outs I had ever done.) How surprised I was when I came home from college one day to see a real ergometer in our basement! ‘What was it doing there?’ ‘Where did it come from?’ and ‘How did it get there?’ all raced through my mind at the same time. As it so happened to be, it was the schools. Becca got it on loan to further her training. What dedication she had to her newfound joy.

First one to Greet me from the Brazil

Becca has always had a soft spoken but strong personality. I have been impressed over the years how much Becca puts up with. With five older brothers, she has been the victim to a lot of injustice including but not limited to my barbarisms, brutalities, and balky behaviors. She is a true example of humility.

She's Beautiful

Another thing that sets Becca apart from the majority, i.e. all, of my family, is that Becca is undeniably the most into graffiti. I sent two years of my life living within the graffiti covered walls of Brazil as a Latter-day Saint missionary. Throughout my time as a missionary, I came to not only appreciate but also love the expressive art behind good, wholesome graffiti. I do not wish to promote the illicit behavior of tagging but I intend to speak of the art form of graffiti and its style of art. I find it beautiful when properly done (this includes permission). Rebecca and her friend graffitied her bedroom. It was a very cool and innovated bedroom look.

In conclusion, I wish to express my gratitude for my younger sister. I love her and wish I could be closer to her, not only in distance but also in bond. I am proud of her and will only admit this once, I think she’s taller than I am. Today she turns 16 and can now officially ‘date’ under our standards. I, therefore, ‘can not’ get mad at her dating; however, if you are reading this and get any ideas, you better beware… As she is my younger sister and is leaving the pre-dating world, I would like to have fun by reminiscing with an old childhood practice, acrostic poems.

First Time Driving!

Mom, Ignore These Last Two Photos

Rower

Excellent

Beautiful

Empathetic

Caring

Can’t believe there’s another C, wish she was here to help because she’s so much more Creative than I am

Awesome Sister

Pants Club

Yesterday I joined the ranks with the Rip Your Favorite Pair of Pants Biking Club. This club has existed for sometime. Legend has it that it has been around since the creation of bicycles, back in the early 1800’s. Baron Karl von Drais is said to have officially started the club in Mannheim in 1818, the year after he publicly displayed his invention. The Parisian guild, which led to membership worldwide, was instated in summer of 1820 when Drais looked for greater and a more diverse support group.

I was first introduced to this club in late May this very year. My friends and I planned a wondrous trip down to a little city called Moab, located on the desert flats of eastern Utah. For those who don’t know Moab is a wonderland for those outdoor inclined people and for all that is good in the world. She is known for her camping, hiking, mountain biking, and off-roading. One of our friends Aubrey was graduating from Brigham Young University and planning on taking a job in New York City working for the National Basketball Association. Aubrey, who happens to be the most outdoor savvy of all our friends, had never been to Moab.

Maybe not the most savvy, but pretty savvy...

So naturally, as a going away present for our dear friend Aubrey, my roommate, Greg, and I set out to plan a trip to Moab. As Moab is a Mecca for mountain bikers, we decided to attempt the most famous mountain bike trail in the world, Slickrock Trail, and this is where our story begins.

Slickrock Trail is known for her unforgiving uphill climbs, her duplicitous downhill descents, her beautiful bends, her ridged rock formations. My favorite part of the trail is Swiss cheese ridge, a beautiful, relaxing straightaway, for a lack of a better word. Although this section is still challenging, it is possible to get a fair amount of speed climbing and descend the various prominences. Technical skills are required but this section is relatively easy physically. The trail starts in a parking lot and continues roughly two and a half miles until you reach the ‘main loop,’ a section about six miles in length. As Greg would come to testify, the placement of first two miles has no representation of its difficulty. Although the downhill portions seem most dangerous, as you get the maximum amount of speed and appear to have least control over your bike, Greg would soon come to realize the perfidious uphill ascents pose an equally dangerous threat, one of a different nature. As Greg followed me up a particular hill, he placed too much weight backwards and proceeded to pop a wheelie. As he slipped off the rear of his new bicycle, his seat catch hold of his Oakton lacrosse shorts. The pressure and momentum of his body was too much for the frail material and continued to tear his most prized possession literally from his body. These weren’t any pair of lacrosse shorts; these were the practice shorts that had led Oakton High School to an impeccable season, winning the Virginia State Lacrosse Championship and warranting Greg one of two enormous state championship rings. Greg was heartbroken but in that small moment he sacrificed a small token for a greater good, to enter into a greater cause, to get a greater purpose in life, to join a high rank amongst that very club named after those who have sacrificed and lost their very britches in the line of duty.

This was my first exposure to this elite league of gentlemen and ladies bounded together by a similar experience. At first, I admit that I laughed at my friend Greg and was glad to be excluded from their ranks. However, with time I would come to realize the importance of this fraternity in every young bikers life. It was yesterday that I fully comprehended the impact of this association. I went with my mountain biking class to Midway, Utah, situated in the foothills of the Wasatch mountain range near Heber, Utah with the intention to ride at the Dutch Hollow bike trial. After a hard ride through the Enchanted Forest, Boneyard Trail, and the 1000 Turns of death, we leveled off on a flat piece of trail called Aqueduct Trail.

It was an easy and fun straightway conducing to good speed. Everything was going fine but a split second would usher me into the previously mentioned institution. For a nanosecond I looked over the edge of the trail that led to the 100-foot fall over a 60 to 70 degree descent. As I diverted my attention from the trail to the enormous fall by my side, my foot catch hold of something, most likely a root or rock, off the side of the trail, which sent me, flying off the trial. In an entanglement of body and bicycle, I tried to stand up; however, something would not allow me to actually stand up. Every time I tried, my foot just slipped down. Quickly I realized that I was on an incredibly steep hillside and need to be careful where I placed my feet.

As I hurried to avoid being seen by anyone in my class, Grant came around the corner. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I responded, as all men would independent of the severity of the fall. “How did you stop from falling all the way down?” As I looked back, I realized that I was incredibly lucky that I hit the only four inches of flat land on the hillside and miraculously stopped. “Did you rip your shorts?” Of course my pants already had two one inch holes in the front so I ignored the comment as I wiped off my dirty hands and legs. It wasn’t until we returned to the parking lot that I realized that I had really ripped my pants. There was a six-inch rip straight across, accentuating the bottom of my left gluteus.

Today was my day. I had finally ascended the ranks and could finally call myself a member of those glitterati.

A Tribute

Today I realized how much I miss my older sister, Jessica. She’s such a good example. She’s amazing. She’s the oldest child and the first to serve a mission. She’s the only sibling married and has two wonderful children. There are several reasons that I miss my sister but themain reason is that she is just awesome! It seems like every time I talk to her, she has a new fun project that she’s doing. She quilts, she sows, she does everything.

Next, she’s amazingly fit. Irecall coming back from my mission, during which she had her first child, and if I hadn’t know that it was her child, I would’ve thought she adopted because she was as skinny as ever. In the fall, we did a sprint triathlon in Vegas together and I recall Jessica having so much energy that not only did she do the whole triathlon but she did extra!

Next, Jessica has the cutest kids ever! Now when I show pictures of my niece, I almost feel like I’m being boastful because I do notthink any other babies even compare to her. Teagan, Jessica’s daughter, is the cutest, most adorable kid I have ever seen. She’s fun to talk to, she’s cute as can be, AND she gives wet willies. What’s cooler than that?

Who'd have thought she'd give wet willies?

She really is a doll though!

Jessica is also, an amazing cook. When she returned from her mission from Thailand, she cooked the best dish ever, sticky rice. It was the sweetest thing that had ever touched my tongue. It was heavenly. She cooked an amazing Thanksgiving dinner this last year (if you get invited, don’t bring your laptop…her husband isn’t as great as she is…(inside joke, he's alright)).

In summary, Jessica is the best. As a youngster, she was an example for me to go on a mission, to be a better person, and to broaden my horizons. Today nothing has changed. She continues to amaze me and motivate me to be better. We’d all be lucky if we could find more friends like her! Love you and miss you Jessica!

Repulsive Attraction

Why does it always appear that you're interested in things you can't have? Women who aren't interested, cars that aren't affordable, luxuries that are out of the question. For me, the chase is attracting, it's tantalizing, it drives me closer. It is easier and sometime more enjoyable to flirt with someone who isn't interested. There is nothing to lose or to be ashamed about when being rejected. This seems independent of your likes and your feelings of the person. Not that it's not completely independent, but as my brother puts it best, if a person is above the line, then circumstances can change your level of attraction. I do not wish to suggest that just because someone isn't interested that this brings interest and attraction. I do not believe this in the slightest. I do, however, want to suggest that with a minimal level of friendship someone's dislike can easily spark the other's interest.

A Realization

This week was marked with true love. A college student full of smit (i.e. smitten). Amongst the mundane looks of others, nothing compares to her beauty. A hidden gem, love at first sight, an earthly ecstasy. As King Ahasuerus replaced his previous engagement with his new love, I too have been persuaded by unimaginable beauty, indescribable grace. Due to this inconceivable beauty, I have set aside my preconception and fallen victim to love…

Utah valley is known for its lackluster lands, its dull desert flats, its monotonous mountains. It is not know for its luscious lands, its fertile fields, nor its crowed city life. However, amongst the gloomy desert flats of mid Utah, exists a small place called the Uinta National Forest, a Garden of Eden amongst the dark and dreary world, a paradise set aside in the mountains, a monument of the sweet Lord’s hand. Fertile forests, clear creeks, robust reservoirs, towering trees. A hidden gem, love at first sight, an earthly ecstasy. No place compares with her beauty. As King Ahauerus, I too have been infatuated by beauty, beauty of a different kind, beauty nonetheless.

A Christmas Miracle!!!

Today I was awakened by a text message. Naturally, I was a disappointed to be awakened by somebody else at the early hours of the morning (9:05). As I read the message, a sublime feeling overwhelmed me. To preface the situation, in early March, I lost my keys, car key, apartment key, bike lock key, and all. Diligently I have searched not only March’s box of lost keys in the Wilkinson Center’s lost and found but also February’s box, April’s, and May’s all to no avail. Hours have been spent fruitlessly pondering the location of the keys. Search parties have toiled in vain to find those three keys that would cost over $600 to replace. In order to replace that one car key, the car’s computer needs to be replaced (which is free the first time due to the “generosity” of the Lexus dealership); however, in order to get the free computer, you need purchase two new remote keys, each costing roughly $200-$300. Needless to say, I have frisked every pair of pants, every pair of shorts, searched under every couch cushion, chair, bed, desk, sifted through every dirty clothes hamper, every unpacked box. Long ago had the aspirations of finding the keys passed. That soul yearning for those keys turned from a reality to a fantasy; now the mere thought of the keys stung deep in the soul for the pains of forking out the sufficient fund to replace them. Benjamin’s haunted my dreams, mocking me, tormenting me, burning holes in my pockets and fleeing, literally, fleeing the scene of the crime. Terrible has been the agony of my battle. So at 9:05 when the text message read, “Are you missing a set of keys? I just randomly found a set in my car…” my anger of being awaken quickly subsided. Could these be my keys? Would the $600 replacements not be need? Calm down Preston, these might not be yours. “Yes, I am missing a set of keys! Please, please be mine!” “There’s a Lexus key and a chats key for sure, so I don’t know who else’s they could be. How long have they been missing?”

FOUR long months in dismay,
FOUR long months in distress,
FOUR long months of wondering,
this could be the bes’.

FOUR long months had past,
FOUR long months were gone,
FOUR long months of misplaced keys,
were all said and done!

FOUR long months of looking,
At times I felt like a loon,
It was finally OVER,
Could it be Christmas in June!

A true Christmas miracle,
In June none the less,
Finally it was all done,
Away went all the stress.

I was happy as could be,
I showed my emotion best,
Rolled over I,
And got a little more rest.

Aubrey

Happy birthday (5 days early) to the greatest friend I've ever had.

She's the bomb diggity and I couldn't be luckier to have such a life-changer of a friend.

That is all.

Happy birthday sweet cakes!

April 12th 2010

April 12th, 2010, one shot was heard, one life was taken,
One soul departed from its earthy body, one city enraged,
Two men left, a few items in hand, a laptop, other petty goods,
The departed life belonged to an athlete, a musician, a scholar,
The burglars, scoundrels, vile, no respect for life,
The boy, 17 years old, inexperienced, awaiting the joys of life,
The villains, single-minded, focused on money, on greed,
One shot heard, one shot rang, one life taken,
Texas to Virginia, California to Washington,
Friends and family rallied across the nation,
Utah to Florida, East to West,
Gathered to see a boy dedicated to serve,
In life a boy scout, determination to serve a 2 year mission,
The first in his family,
No consideration of self-interests or a personal agenda,
Dedication to God
Through his donations, others will live,
A heart, a liver, lungs, skin, bones,
The all-American boy sacrificed for others,
Pure talent, a mechanic, a gymnast, a friend,
In death, no doubtably he will serve,
Preaching the gospel to those who have gone before us,
Fulfilling his mission across the veil,
A tragedy, a calamity, a death,
We look to Christ for comfort, for peace,
Voices raised high to God,
Some cry, some ignore the pain,
The suffering exists,
Hymns unite us, bringing the Spirit
Ultimately faith and hope prevail,
A tragedy, a heartache, a mission,
A memory engraved,
The all-American boy,
We love you, we miss you, we will never forget you,
Eric Jon Forrester,
A relative, a cousin, a friend.

Ironies of Reality

It's funny how life is. Not in a funny way but an ironic one.

One minute you're contemplating the joys and the excitements of life and the next your reality is shaken, twisted and warped down to earth, to pain, to sorrow. It is so easy to critique life as a third party, a mere observer. Constantly we are judging people around us. People who are different from us, who dress different, talk different or just walk past us. We think to ourselves, why is that person the way that they are, why aren't they "normal," without any consideration or thought of their life, their experiences, their trials. We don't know what is happening in the life of that individual nor the life of his loved ones. We can not understand nor fathom the way they were raised or the feelings they hold. We are oblivious to their difficulties and hardships. As a missionary it was easy to assure people that things were going to be okay, that God's plan had a specific place for them and there was a reason for their heartache; however, when death is on your doorstep and the situation has become personal, it takes a lot more faith to believe in those underlying characteristics of the gospel. Although life is disconcerting there is an assurance in the gospel, in the plan of salvation. Although death is frightening, the only thing we can do is hope for the truth, hope that our faith is correct. Luckily we can receive reassurance of our faith and beliefs through the Holy Ghost. Another irony in life is reality itself.

Reality seems only to be fantasy until the moment you decide to acknowledge the truth. The moment your lips utter the words, fantasy warps to reality. Maybe that is why it's hard to express feelings. When you express your feelings, you commit to the notion, your freedom ceases and you are trapped, held to those words. Maybe that is why bearing testimony is so powerful and crucial. Spoken words solidify reasoning and reality. Another irony is found in the wickedness of the world and in the calamities of life.

From the mountains looking down, people appear as ants, peaceful and carefree. It is shocking to even think that horrific things are currently happening. Death, murder, robbery, rape are all happening amongst ourselves, in our country, in our city, in our community. Often we think we are the only ones suffering or experiencing heartache. Amongst the hundreds and thousands of people with whom we live, we have the audacity to believe we have it rough. However, as stated before, life is easy as an observer. Hopefully, we can have a better appreciation for others, looking for their best and trying to understand their faults.

It is also ironic that when something goes wrong, it seems worse when we don't have any control of the outcome. Life sucks when we do stupid things and we receive the unpleasant consequences but we cope with our poor decisions; however it seems exponentially worse when you have absolutely no control over the outcome. In theory it seems that this should be reversed. If we screw something up, it seems like it should be worse but I disagree. Although I regret my mistakes, I at least have a reason for the repugnant outcomes. On the other hand when horrific things happen that are outside of our control, we have no 'reason' for the heartache. We can't look back and say well that was my fault and now I'm paying for it. It is soo much harder to pay for something we didn't deserve. My only other thoughts on this topic are directed to the Savior and a talk given by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. He said "salvation never was easy," the Savior had to descent below all and nothing can be deemed unfair in comparison to the Savior's life and death.

Mulan: The Quest for Territory

As I sat watching Mulan late last Saturday, I wondered why were the Mongolians suck jerks. It was kind of troubling. Who is this 10 foot scary guy pillaging China? I realized that it come back to the age long quest for territory. I realized that this quest has neither ended nor subsided in our days. Constantly I am engaging in a battle for territory. Daily my roommate and I struggle against each other for more room. Day-to-day his pile of clothes expands. Day-to-day I try consolidating the pile, throwing the peripheral clothing on top of the core pile. I strive and strive but my endeavors are futile. So after watching Mulan, I decided to take matters in my own hands. As my roommate ventured in the wilderness of Zion's national park, I was busy taking revenge and my plan was sweet... I took the whole pile of clothes and threw the whole thing into a box. For the first time, I could see my floor! It was the first time it had been vacuumed. Sweet success. Although the battle is never over and since that day we have dueled for floor space, I had a whole weekend of pure bliss.

"Mano a Mano"

Once again Sunday evening boredom struck yesterday. It was approaching the late hours of the night and we had nothing to do. As we pondered which movie to watch, it quickly occurred to me that we had too much energy to watch a movie. A calm Sunday evening movie quickly escalated into a full on slapping match. Mano a mano, literally "hand in hand", Jon-Michael and I brawled it out. Jaws sore and faces torn, I eventually reached a conclusion. No words do better justice to my realization then those of a wise friend...
"Sounds like you two need girlfriends."

What is our Destiny?

Throughout our lives we are encouraged to reach our destiny, but what really is our destiny? What do we have to do in order to reach our destiny? What happens if we slip once or miss just one opportunity? Are we still capable of reaching our potential? As our lives get more complicated, we find ourselves wondering what is the correct choice. As summer approaches, I find myself wondering what choices I should take in order to accomplish my potential. Should I go to school and further my education, should I apply for internships and get work experience at home, or work at school where I can be with my friends, or even travel the world? What will be most beneficial to my future. If I travel the East, will I postpone my graduation, will I miss the chance to meet my future wife, or will I open new doors to opportunities in the future? As I ponder these decisions and weigh the possible outcomes, I am comforted by a quote:

"I will always be a disciple of Christ, it is not what I do, it is a part of me."

As I am force to make these decisions I remember that it is in the Savior that I must put my confidence. I need not stress about the possible outcomes but strive to be the best in every aspect of life. I remind myself that there is a greater power at the helm, one with an invested interest in my future.